


Nurse Joxter to the Rescue

by Lady_Phenyx



Series: Whumptober 2019 [26]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Sick Character, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 15:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Joxter arrives back at Mymblemamma's to find her too sick to wake, while her latest secondary has run off, leaving her and the children to fend for themselves.Well, Joxter might not know exactly what he's doing, but he's got to do something.Whumptober Day 22: Hallucination





	Nurse Joxter to the Rescue

Joxter whistled as he walked, a little bounce in his step. He could have dug out an instrument to let out the song that floated through the air with him, but right now his voice felt more satisfying.

His son hadn't realized it yet, but he'd found his people, his home to return to. Watching Snufkin and his would-be mates slowly start to realize things was sweet...if a bit frustrating.

Joxter had the faintest foreboding that he was going to have to explain a few things to the three – like how it was possible to have relationships that weren't just two people, if more complicated and needing a lot more communication. That there were a lot of variations out there on relationships.

Despite the forebodings, watching them start to discover what they could have filled Joxter with joy and a desire to return to his Mymblemamma.

He hoped they could have something like what Moominmamma and Moominpappa had, like what he and Mymble had. That joy, that security. That feeling of finding a safe harbor to return to again and again.

He wanted to marry her, really he did, and he wouldn't even mind when she had secondary partners if she did marry him – most Mymbles did. Heck, he had a few people he wouldn't say no to if they asked, and Mymble knew, had told him to go for it if the opportunity arose.

Joxter had a feeling Mymblemamma was interested in the same ones as he was, and had been hinting to them about it. Permanent secondaries would be very good, Joxter thought. Especially those particular secondaries.

He just wanted that ring to make sure she – and everyone else – knew just how he felt about her and what they had together. To assure her that he meant it when he said he'd always come back.

But she was worried he'd feel tied down, or suddenly disapprove of secondary partners, or...well. She wanted him to be happy, and despite everything they had, she was convinced that someday, he would disappear and not come back. That mumriks couldn't be tied down and it would hurt him to be, that no matter what he claimed, everyone always left mymbles as soon as things ceased to be sunshine and roses and passion.

That no one wanted to be domestic with a mymble and take care of the more unpleasant aspects of having so many children, the day to day grind of it, especially not a mumrik that needed to be able to come and go as he pleased.

Moominmamma was on his side in this, at least. In both their interest in her and her husband as secondaries, something she had made clear to Joxter that she knew about and was thinking over, and in Joxter's ongoing desire to make things official.

Well, maybe Joxter had been a little scared of being tied down, as well, but just like his son's mates understood Snufkin's need to leave, Mymble understood his as well.

He just wished that she would believe him when he said he would always return, that he wouldn't grow tired of her or stop coming just because she didn't want to have a ring.

At least she believed that he wouldn't break a promise, and she believed when he promised to return each time he left. Enough to come looking for him the one time he was late and get him out of a bit of trouble he hadn't been able to get out of alone.

Buoyed by hopeful thoughts, Joxter floated along his path to Mymble's new home. Finding the old one destroyed had left him terrified, thank goodness he'd stumbled into Moomin Valley and found out what had happened.

Up ahead, he could see her house and the many expansions that had been added onto it ever since Moomin had first built it, the hodgepodge of building materials and styles that suited the chaos that surrounded Mymblemamma, and he quickened his steps.

Except...there was no shouting. No kids laughing, no pounding footsteps, and the Mymble's home was never quiet, not even when everyone was asleep.

Not like this. Never like this.

Joxter stepped out quicker than ever until he was flat out running, sprinting towards the house.

He flung open the door, and a mass of children turned to stare at him before scrambling to cling to him, all of them crying at once.

“What's going on?” he cried over the noise. “Where's your mother?”

They continued to cry, a dozen voices trying to answer at once.

He wished suddenly that Little My or Mymble Jr. were here, if only for some vague control.

“You,” he said, pointing to one of the older children. “You tell me what's going on. I need to hear it from one person, I can't understand all of you at once.”

The child in question sniffled but answered, having someone in charge, some adult here, starting to calm the others, despite their usual reactions to being told what to do. “Mama's sick. She started getting sick a few days ago, and her new secondary ran off as soon as she got really sick, and she's too sick to get up now! And we don't know what to do and...”

She started to cry again. “Mama's not getting better! Mama can't die! Please don't let Mama die!”

The wailing began again. “Everyone calm down!” Joxter pleaded. “I'm going to go check on her, just hold on.”

He dropped his pack and hurried up the stairs. There weren't many rooms in this house – it was growing and changing with time as Mymble and her various paramours added to it, mostly in large spaces that hadn't been divided into separate rooms yet – but Mymble had her own, private room.

He opened the door and was hit by the scent of sickness, of a room that needed aired out, a room that was far too dark.

“Mymble?” he called into the room, carefully stepping inside. “Love?”

There was a moan from the bed, and Joxter rushed across the room, opening the curtains nearest the bed.

Light rushed into the room, and he turned back toward the bed.

His night vision was superb, but he needed to see properly right now.

Mymble was laid on the bed, pale and wan. He rushed to her side, taking up her paw and feeling her forehead.

Mymble's eyes fluttered, unfocused, and Joxter winced. She was far too warm, and sweaty, trembling faintly under his paw.

No panic. Do not panic. She needed him to not panic.

He sniffed, gently, feeling her pulse, looking at her color.

There were children peering around the edge of the door. “Okay, we need to get this room aired out,” he told them, trying to keep his voice calm. “I need to know a few things, and if we can get the sheets changed and her hair combed and her cleaned it'll make your Mama more comfortable.”

The children looked at each other and nodded before swarming the room. Some of them disappeared down the hall, returning soon after with warm water and cloths, while Joxter helped some of them to get their mother out of bed and strip the sheets while the rest opened curtains and windows, waving cloths around to get the air moving. The room was stuffy and musty with the smell of illness, slowly freshening as the children worked.

It might not help much, but Joxter figured anyone would feel even worse when they were stuck in a shut up room like that. It was warmer outside than it was in here, too, so that might help.

The water was spilled more than once, soaking them all before it was over, but all things considered, it was the most organized he'd ever seen the children. Joxter praised them for everything they'd done so far and they preened under the praise and kept it coming while he gently sponged Mymblemamma down, easing her into a new nightgown, worried still over her fever.

Usually, Mymblemamma could get him flustered with little more than a glance, but Joxter was worried enough right now the thought never even entered his mind. Getting her better was all that mattered.

Several of the children combed her hair and braided it while Joxter helped the others put new sheets on the bed.

Mymble looked more comfortable, at least, once she was tucked back in. The little things mattered, sometimes.

Joxter chose several children at random, splitting the rest up into shifts and deputizing them to watch their mother for an hour at a time. The first shift nodded firmly, perching all over the room while he and the rest headed downstairs.

There wasn't much they could do save come and get him, but it gave them something to do other than sitting around and fretting.

Joxter wasn't big on kids usually, as he didn't really know how to deal with most of them, but right now he was going to do his best. The kitchen was more messy than usual, speaking to the kids having to fend for themselves for a few days.

He'd take care of that later. For now, he questioned a few of the older children about their mother's sickness as he threw together some soup.

Joxter braced himself on the counter as they finished, head reeling. He recognized what the kids were telling him, and...if he'd been here when she'd first gotten sick, it never would have gotten this bad. If...

“Where was her secondary?” he asked. “Why wasn't he helping?”

The child closest shrugged. “He wasn't here long. He ran off as soon as she started getting sick, like right away. He said something about refusing to get himself sick or dealing with it. She started falling asleep a few hours later, and yesterday we couldn't wake her up at all.”

Joxter snarled. Spineless, useless...

No, pack that away, it took too much energy and Mymble needed all of his right now. He rushed back to the front door, digging into his bag. “Kids?” he called. “Who's good at identifying plants?”

There was a ragged chorus, and he spread out plants. “I need more of these, so check them close, okay? And bring me back as many as you can find. It's for medicine for your mama.”

“Is she gonna be okay?” a child asked, and a dozen pairs of eyes stared up at him pleadingly.

“...I'm going to do my best, a lot of it's going to depend on your mama,” Joxter said after a moment. “The medicine's going to help. Some of you should go for Moominmamma in the morning. For now, though, we need to get this into her.”

There was a rush on the plants, and the kids flew outside. Joxter collected the ones that remained and hurried to make a tisane from them.

Once it and the soup were done, the majority of the kids eating, Joxter slipped into the room with Mymble, gently ushering the kids from the room to go eat.

He'd be taking the night shift and sleeping here.

Mymble was bigger than he was, so getting her upright was a bit of a challenge, but he managed, gently propping her up against the headboard with her collection of pillows.

Crawling onto the bed, he urged her to sip at the medicine. She mumbled in her sleep, turning her head away.

Joxter took a shaky breath, holding back his own fears and tears. “Please, love, you have to drink it,” he said softly. “Please, Sunshine, it'll help you.” Gently, he brushed a stray hair from her face, holding up the medicine again.

“Jox...ter...?” Mymblemamma breathed.

Joxter perked up. “Yes! Yes, it's Joxter, I'm here Sunshine. Please, you need to drink this.”

Mymble moaned softly, still not awake, but drank when Joxter held up to her mouth the cup again.

She didn't say anything else, didn't wake properly as he fed her and got her to drink, in small sips and tiny spoonfuls. Joxter set it aside on the tray and eased her back into the bed, placing a damp washcloth on her forehead.

Twice more during the evening he gave her medicine, urging small amounts of food and drink on her along with it. The fourth dose he gave her right after helping the children to bed, promising them he'd watch over her during the night.

Joxter curled up partially on top of Mymble, so he could feel if any changes happened, and fell into a fitful sleep.

He was awoken halfway through the night by Mymblemamma calling out in her sleep.

“Joxter! Joxter, come back! Joxter, no, don't go there, please come back!”

Joxter grabbed her paw, rubbing the back of it as he leaned over her. “Mymble! Sunshine, Love, Mymble I'm right here!”

She opened her eyes, staring through him. “Where's Joxter?” she asked, plaintive. “He's going to die, I didn't tell him I love him!”

“Shh, shh, I'm right here, I'm home Mymble-love,” he cooed, stroking her cheek.

“No you're not, you're dead and I never said yes,” Mymble cried, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Joxter pulled her paw to his chest, over his heart. “Shh, I'm here, it's going to be all right. Feel? Not dead.”

“Where are the children?” she demanded, terror escalating.

“They're in bed,” he hushed her gently. “Sleeping soundly. They're all right. All of them.”

He kept soothing, and Mymble squinted at him. “You can't be here, you're miles away,” she said. “...when did you dye your hair? Why's there two of you? And you're purple?”

\---XXX---

The night continued in that fashion – Mymble would fall asleep, then wake again demanding to know where the children were, claiming that Joxter couldn't possibly be there, and seeing things that weren't real.

Each time she did, Joxter tried to get her to drink something, and once, to get some medicine in her.

It was...difficult, to say the least, but when he went along with her hallucinations he was able to get it down.

\---XXX---

The day dawned bright, putting an end to the too-long night.

Mymble was sleeping again, but when Joxter, sleep deprived and emotionally exhausted, checked her forehead, he paused before slumping in relief.

The medicine worked. The fever was broken.

The children peered around the door frame, and Joxter wondered how much they'd heard last night.

“The fever's gone,” he told them. “The worst should be over. I need to make breakfast, first shift is on duty. We can choose who'll go to Moomin House after breakfast.”

“Is she gonna start yelling again?” one of them asked.

“She shouldn't, but if she does I'll come running,” Joxter promised.

He didn't make promises often – couldn't break a promise you didn't make – and the children recognized that, the first shift of three children inching into the room.

“I'll bring up some breakfast for you and your mama,” Joxter said, ruffling hair.

“More soup?”

Joxter shrugged. “It's something I can get your mama to eat while she's asleep like this,” he answered. “I'll see if there's anything more substantial for everyone else.”

The child nodded, accepting the answer, and settled onto their mother's bed.

Joxter was passing out bowls of soup and sandwiches – the children were starting to recover their spirits, but still tense, quiet, and frightened, and he found he missed the noise, preferring it to this frightened silence – when a child yelled from the stairs.

“Joxter! Joxterpappa! She's waking up!”

Joxter fumbled with the bowl he was holding, handing out the last bowls and nearly spilling soup and hot water on his paw as he filled cup and bowl and glass, snatching up the tray and rushing up the stairs.

The tray went on the table as Joxter boosted himself on the bed, touching Mymble's forehead.

She moaned softly, turning her face into his paw.

“Mymble? Wake up, Sunshine,” he urged. “Open those pretty eyes of yours.”

Her eyes cracked open, blearily looking up at him. “Joxter?” she said, voice raspy from dehydration and yelling. “You're...here?”

He nodded, feeling his eyes well. “I'm home,” he said softly. “Just in time, too. There's my Mymble, you gave us all a scare.”

“I...” she rubbed at her forehead. “What?”

“He ran off,” the small child sitting next to the bed informed their mother solemnly. “Right after you got sick. Then Joxterpappa came home.”

“He made medicine,” another added. “He's been taking care of all of us.”

Mymble stared at Joxter, searching his face. “You...stayed? You took care of me, of us?”

Joxter tilted his head. “How could I not?” he asked. He held her paw to his face with both paws, hugging it close. “I was so scared, I thought we were going to lose you for a bit there,” he said, quietly, for her ears only.

“No one stays,” Mymble mumbled. “As soon as it gets hard, they all leave.”

Joxter winced, and she turned her paw to hold one of his. “That's not what I meant. You need time alone. You came back,” she said, wonder in her voice. “You've always come back. You stayed.”

“I wish I'd been here sooner,” Joxter said. “I'm fine with your secondary partners, but not when they act like this. He should have been here for you! You wouldn't have been so sick if he'd given you the medicine when you first got sick. Or even just called for Moominmamma. Five of the oldest are going for her as soon as they finish eating, by the way.”

Mymble rubbed her thumb over Joxter's cheek. “No one stays,” she repeated. “No one stays with mymbles. Not until you.”

He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Don't strain yourself,” he said softly. “You're still sick. I brought up soup and tea along with some more medicine. We can talk when you feel better.”

“Soup?”

“Joxterpappa made soup,” the talkative child announced, and the way Mymble glanced at them said the addition of 'pappa' at the end of Joxter's name had just registered. “And he made the medicine.”

“You made soup,” she mused wonderingly. Her mouth twitched into a surprised, delighted, almost disbelieving smile. “Nurse Joxter made me medicine and soup.”

“And Nurse Joxter says you're going to eat it,” Joxter said, gently lying her paw back down and picking up the cup of medicine. “After you drink this.”

The children slipped away for their own soup, replaced by others as they slipped in and out of the room, checking quietly on their mother.

Mymblemamma finished her breakfast, taking it slow while Joxter fussed over her in his own way, making light jokes about 'nurse Joxter' and the outfit she was going to make for him.

Joxter piled it back on the tray, ready to take it downstairs.

She caught his sleeve. “Did I talk in my sleep?” she asked.

Joxter smiled. “I won't hold it against you,” he teased. “It was...you were worried. It's fine now. Nurse Joxter's here to take care of you.” He hefted the tray carefully. “Now, you're staying in that bed, and I'm going to go check on the children. It's still too quiet down there.”

“Joxter?” Mymblemamma called as Joxter opened the door. “ Marry me.”

Joxter froze, staring down at her, flushing deeply and nearly dropping the tray. He fumbled it, having to move quickly to keep from having it fall.

Mymblemamma chuckled, and he ducked his head.

“Ask me again after you're up and about,” he said, looking at her through his bangs, flushed and fighting down the urge to scream 'yes' to the skies. “Ask me again then, when you're not feeling weak and obligated. When we both know you're thinking clearly. Ask me again then, and I'll say yes. But I can't now.”

Mymblemamma chuckled. “We'll still have our secondary partners, but I need to put a ring on it,” she teased gently. “I could look forever and I'll never find another like you. I should have put a ring on it before now.”

“What a remarkable Mymble,” Joxter said adoringly. “There's not another like you, either.”


End file.
